Biscuits
by BlueberryToasterTart
Summary: A growing collection of drabbles about Astrid, Hiccup, and possible others who occupy Berk.
1. Chapter 1

This came about today as I was baking pretzels - they were in a can, not like make dough and roll it out. And turns out, our oven is broken. So when I set the temperature for 400 it was actually at 475 - so the pretzels were both burnt, and raw. So it is possible. They turned out okay, I mean, I ate one.

I own nothing, as always. Expect the experience.

Astrid had followed the instructions. She mashed the grain into fine flour. She beat the eggs before adding them. But…something wasn't right. The dough was too sticky and tough. It didn't want to roll out or be in any other shape other than a glob. Remembering the advice to not knead the dough too much or it would be tough, she threw the shapeless globs over the fire.

She waited by it, patiently, watching the gray-white dough expand and lose its sticky-dough complexion. But the globs were still globs, she sighed aloud. And should the glob be browning? Or yellowing at least? They were still paste-white.

Astrid sighed again, this time letting out more of a defeated irritation. The bottoms were darkening, burning. But the tops still looked as they had, although less sticky. She removed them from the fire and set them to cool. They looked…not good.

This was her first attempt to bake by herself. It was never something she had been interesting in growing up. Most other girls had, from their mothers, or aunts, or from whoever. But not Astrid. She had been fighting, learning to toughen herself not how to not-toughen bread dough. She learned where to strike and enemy for a quick death, and how to spot weaknesses and armor flaws. While other girls were picking up how to bake bread, how to keep herbs growing in the cold weather, how to strip fish and how to prepare the meat, what to do with all the other bits of animals that they didn't eat, how to get mud out of wool, how much water to add to stew, when to add more and when to add less, and little things that Astrid didn't have the time or care to think about.

She and Hiccup had been married less than a month and all she has done is prove how worthless she is to have in the home. These biscuits are just another addition. She dared to touch one, and finding it just warm she pulled a chunk out of it. The bottoms were burnt, like she thought, but the insides were mushy, and texture disgusting. She couldn't swallow the bite she'd taken went to the window to spit it out. She tossed the chunk out with it.

Sighing, she leaned onto the window's sill. She'd have to throw them all out.

There was a sudden commotion from the skies, and Toothless landed with his known quickness. Hiccup was off the saddle and through the door before the dragon's wings stopped moving.

"Bad morning?" Astrid asked. Hiccup looked flustered, his face twisting as if he was thinking about a multitude of things.

"I wouldn't call it bad, just busy." Hiccup shrugged. He paused, and his green eyes fell onto the biscuits on the table. He reached for one. "I don't know how my dad does it."

"Oh, don't they're terrible." Astrid warned.

"They don't look that bad." Hiccup said, bringing it up his mouth.

Astrid reached out to stop him from biting down but wasn't fast enough. The reaction was immediate. Hiccup paused, looked down at the biscuit, then quickly as Astrid. He chewed, although she could see in his eyes that is wasn't enjoyable. He swallowed, and then cleared his throat.

"I'm sorry." Astrid said. She couldn't eat that tiny bite that she'd pulled off. She knew he ate it because he didn't want to spit it out in front of her. "I know they're gross."

"Eh, it's not that bad." Hiccup shrugged, the high-pitched lie in his voice too obvious. "You know, once you get past the whole burnt and raw thing."

He took another bite, this time trying his best to pretend that nothing was wrong. Astrid laughed, stepping closer to wrap her arms around his waist and buried her head into his shoulder. The hand that wasn't holding the raw/burnt biscuit came around her shoulders. She felt a kiss on her head, and smiled into the leather on his neck.

"I love you." Astrid muffled.

"I love you, too." Hiccup said. Was he laughing?

He was, and it was a marvelous sound.

I love happy endings! Leaves me all warm and fuzzy on the inside.


	2. Wanderlust

I intern at a press right now and have a lot of time to think. This story came about during those long hours of quiet and thinking. Enjoy!

Wanderlust

The only people who said being chief was east had never been chief. How many times had Stoick watched his father come home with an ice block to his temple? He's lost count. How many times had Stoick come home with an ice block to the temple? He'd lost count.

As chief, everyone came to him with their complaints. And everyone complained. Daily. Someone had caused someone else grief and demanded justice. It was a never ending game of he-said-she-said. But, as chief, Stoick's word was final. He had to be solid in his decisions, strong about them and not in any way uncertain. He couldn't let people question his authority. But he couldn't simply pick a side. No, he had to know the entire story from both sides of an argument.

His father had told him many stories about the chiefs of past, about their mistakes and triumphs. Vikings may be stubborn but they can learn from mistakes. A chief that doesn't listen to his people ignites mutiny, inspires conspiracy, and welcomes an early grave. A chief who listen to his people sparks trust and diplomacy.

Stoick's father's father had had a cousin who had never listened to his people. He had been power-hungry and selfish, and a bit dull as it was told. His people were starving, and a mutiny had put his head on a spear for the entire village to see. A chief is for the people, Stoick's father had said in accompaniment of that story, wizened by age and experiences. A chief without his people is not a chief at all, but just a man.

The headache of chiefdom was returning. It never truly went away, only subsides, rested, waiting on the slightly provocation. He could almost feel the cold relief of ice.

From the village he could look up at his house, standing strong against the rainy sky. He had spent so many mornings, and evenings, looking down at the village. It was strange to be looking up at it, as any other Vikings would do.

A clap of thunder sounded in the distance. Stoick remembered his son's blunt absence that day. Hiccup had left in a huff the day before when Stoick tried to retell on of his father's stories, a good one about chiefing. Hiccup made it clear he wasn't ready to become a chief. But who was ever ready?

Stoick wanted his son to know everything that he knew, that he'd been told, stories passed down from father to son for generations. How could he teach his son when he spent more time in the clouds than on the ground?

He sighed. A new layer was added to his headache, a dullness that pounded, only provoked by Hiccup. He had hoped more than once that the gods who send Hiccup a son just like him, as infuriating to Hiccup as Hiccup had been to Stoick. That would give him a taste of what he'd put his father through.

Hiccup had stayed away through the night. He couldn't run away from his problems forever. Thunder rolled high, a threat of more rain. It had rained through the night and most of the day. He had hoped that it was the weather that had delayed his wayward son's return. Stoick looked to the sky, scanning the weather for signs of storms.

The clouds were dark and stuff with cold water. From the constant rain and drizzle everything in the village was wet. Vikings, sheep, even the bread. The rain had eased into a soggy mist that coated everything with a cold layer of water.

Stoick shrugged his great shoulders and a small shower fell from him. He took the steps to his house one at a time, thinking over what he would say to Hiccup. He did not respond to blunt anger, or force. It had taken a long time for Stoick to figure that out. Like is mother, he responded to arguments, to facts, to reason.

The sun was low behind the dark gray-blue clouds but as Stoick reached his front door it poked through. The sudden burst of sunset light cast the entire village below in a magical illumination. The mist that coated everything was lit with the bright pink-gold of the sun, like a shower of tiny golden flakes. Stoick dropped his hand from the door. Something this beautiful could only have come from the sun, the gods.

The dark waters of the ocean were still steely gray. The sun's light hadn't reached that far. Just the village was under the heavenly lighting. And Viking could admire this rare and natural beauty. It wasn't everyday the sun shone while the rain fell.

A memory came forward, and Stoick sighed. It was years ago that the rain and ebbed into mist and the sun broke through the dreary clouds right at dusk, to alit the entire village with gold. He had still been a boy, around Hiccup's age, and trying his best to avoid his father. Stoick laughed, he had almost forgotten.

But that wasn't what made this memory special. He had been the entire day away from the village but he hadn't been alone. The woman that would become his wife and his son's mother had been with him, Valka. They had spent the entire day together, just the two of them, just talking. That day had been the first day they had been able to get to know each other, just them.

They had wandered back to the village around dusk, and the sun was peeked out at last. Suddenly everything was doused in a golden glow. Little droplets of mist had clung to her dark hair, her skin, and her clothes so when the sun hit them she looked angelic. A halo glowed around her, amplifying her already beautiful features. She was, by far, the most beautiful woman Stoick had ever seen. She was infuriating, not unlike her son, but she had sparked something deep in his chest that no other woman could. That was the day that he knew, without a doubt, that she was the only one for him.

There, in that glowing dusk, he had kissed her for the first time. He had tried to do so sooner but the timing always felt off. That day, that time - everything was perfect. Like Hiccup, she wanted to explore, to see, to understand. She had a sense of adventure that could not be quenched. His father had called it 'wanderlust' but he hadn't meant it as a compliment. But that was just another thing Stoick loved about her. He loved everything about her.

When he's kissed her, and she had smiled at him, that timid smile etched itself onto his mind. She had laughed and he laughed with her. Her hands were so small in his, delicate but not weak, gentle but strong. Had she felt the same thing?

With that warm memory in the front of his mind, Stoick couldn't help sigh. Standing there, in near the same light as back then, it felt as if it could have happened yesterday. He felt an echo of the rushing in his ears, the hammering in his chest, the sudden fullness of somewhere much deeper. He could feel her hands in his, the softness of her fingertips on his rough axe-wielding palms. He could almost see the glorious mist-drops all glowing gold in her hair and on her cheeks.

The sun gradually sunk lower and lower, each moment a tiny bit less bright than the one before. The bright gold faded into dull amber, to dingy pink, to violet, to shadow-blue. Stoick stood until the last golden drop was paled. He wanted to remember those feelings, those thoughts, everything about that moment.

When at last the night was present, the mist was dark and foggy, and the cold air thickened with the threat of rain, Stoick opened the door to his house. He wasn't sure how long he had been standing outside but took immediate notice of the sudden warmth on his chilled face.

The hearth fire was burning strong and bright. Someone had kept the fire going. A log was burning away, maybe three or four hours old. But that was not what gave his son's presence away.

Toothless was curled around the hearth, an empty fish basket on its side, and white fishbones scattered around him. One stuck precariously out of the dragon's mouth. Stoick tiptoed passed the sleeping dragon and took the stairs one at a time. If the dragon was home then his rider must be as well.

Stoick didn't need to climb all the stairs to see into his son's room. Two steps left in front of him and he could see Hiccup sleeping soundly. A blonde head was nestled between his shoulder and neck, hair strung out across the pillow like spilt sunlight. Astrid held a fistful of Hiccup's shirt and curled her arm toward her. One of his arms was draped over her back, fingers dangling at her side. They were curled together like sleeping dragons, intertwined to the point where one could not wake without waking the other.

Stoick momentarily forgot the talk he'd prepared for his son. It could wait a while longer. Seeing the two of them there, together, so much in love with each other, reminded him of when he felt the same way. It filled him with him same joy, and some of a different kind. It was the joy of knowing his son was as happy as Stoick had been, of knowing he had found someone like Astrid, who loved him so honestly.

So many marriages on Berk were forged not out of love but out of have-to, out of ought-to, out of tradition. Few were for love, as far as Stoick could tell. He had preformed many marriages over his coarse as chief. Life was short and dangerous, love was unnecessary but procreation was a must. If a man and a woman liked each other, even just a little, they married. Love was arbitrary, and addition something, a seasoning. That was why when Stoick caught Valka he didn't let her go.

Stoick stole one last look at the sleeping couple before retreating downstairs. His talk could wait. With his first step the stair let out a whining creak. He paused, drew in his breath and held it, as he turned over his shoulder to see if he'd woken them.

Hiccup stirred, and sighed in his sleep. His eyes might have flickered open, but it was such a subtle motion that Stoick wasn't sure if he had really seen it. Hiccup's free hand twitched and readjusting, and lethargically searched for the girl sleeping almost on top of him. His hand found hers, and he followed her arm to rest his across her shoulders. Astrid sighed but did not wake. She seemed to nestle closer to his neck.

Stoick waited a few long moments before moving again. Slowly, one foot at a time, he retracing his steps backwards. Toothless twitched as he dismounted the last stair with a relieved sigh.

He couldn't help but smile. Still, there was a nagging in his mind. Hiccup shared his mother's wanderlust. Always wandering, always thinking, always looking over the horizon at something new. Even though Stoick loved that woman dearly, she still caused him pain. Stoick knew that Hiccup was the same. Many times Valka had caused him brief heartaches. Stoick feared Hiccup doing the same to Astrid.

Valka had been hard to catch, and even harder to hold onto.

A little more…melodramatic than I thought it'd be. But that's the rub, isn't it? You've got an idea and in the process of writing that idea it changes from what it originally was into something else, and yet it didn't change at all. Oh, the woes of being a writer.


	3. 3 Worry

I wrote this story and then I accidentally deleted it thinking it was something else. I spent a good half an hour searching through recycling bins before I gave up and decided to just rewrite it.

**Spoiler** **alert** – if you haven't seen dragons 2 yet then there are some spoilers here. Not in your face spoilers, but undertones of a major spoilers. You've been warned.

Worry

The weather was beautiful and ripe for travel. Hiccup stood in the open doorway of his house but he couldn't push himself out of it. The annual chiefs' meeting was in a few days and he would need those few days to get there.

"Hiccup, the world won't end just because you were gone for a week." His mother said from beside the hearth. She was stirring some kind of green stew concoction that Hiccup had learned better than to ask about.

Hiccup grumbled. "You don't know the twins like I do. You can't leave them alone for ten minutes without something going up in flames."

Valka smiled a motherly smile she'd mastered in their short time reunited. "I promise to scold them extra if they burn anything down."

Hiccup sighed. That wasn't the only thing worrying him. He let his eyes wander up the stairs to the second floor bedroom where Astrid was sleeping. She hadn't been sleeping well the past few weeks and Hiccup didn't want to wake up her just for a goodbye. She had looked so sound this morning so he'd let her sleep. She can yell when he returned.

"Hiccup, she'll be fine." Valka reassured him.

"Yeah, but…can you talk her into sleeping downstairs? She won't listen to me." Hiccup almost pleaded. He'd been trying to talk Astrid into switching bedrooms since she started to show. "I don't want her to fall down the stairs or something."

Valka half-laughed and it reminded Hiccup of pity.

"I'll see what I can do. But if she doesn't listen to you I don't know why you think she'll listen to me." Valka smiled. "You know how stubborn Vikings can be. Once they've set their mind nothing can change it."

This wasn't helping Hiccup. He fidgeted, realizing just how steep those stairs were.

"Hiccup, I promise, Astrid will be fine. I'll be right here if she needs anything." Valka paused her stirring to grip her son's shoulder.

Hiccup started to speak but couldn't come up with the words. "But…what if something happens, and I'm not here, and I can't get here fast enough?"

"Hiccup," Valka became serious, "If something _does_ happen then there won't be anything you can do. Here or there."

Those were not the words he wanted to hear.

"Hiccup, she is a strong woman. She'll be fine." Valka repeated. She almost laughed at Hiccup's helpless expression. "She's not dying, she's just having a baby. It's nothing I haven't been through."

Hiccup knew that part was true. Maybe, if something did happen, his mother would be a better help than he would.

Valka laughed.

"What?" Hiccup asked.

"You remind me of your father." She said with a saddened smile. "When you were just a bump he would panic over everything, like the temperature of the water I drank or how much mutton I ate. The bigger you grew the more worried he was. In the couple months before you were born he came by the house every hour to check on me. He would sometimes send Gobber with some meaningless task but I knew what he was up to. It drove him half mad not to be able to be there constantly.

"Once, I surprised him in the village with lunch and he nearly lost it. People started at him then, too. I can still see the look on his face." Valka smiled with her eyes seeing something on the floor that Hiccup couldn't.

Hiccup felt his face redden. He knew she was referring to a few weeks back when Hiccup had stopped by the smithy and Astrid had surprised him. He panicked because his first instinct was that something was wrong.

"It's just…there are so many things that could happen outside. Dragons walking this way and that, landing and taking off, without worry or care to who they push over and nearly trample. And there's a lot of … stairs and… steep paths." Hiccup sighed. He did sound a bit crazed. It was all this stress from running a village. "Just promise that you won't let her out of your sight."

"I can't promise that, Hiccup. But I do promise to keep her safe as best I can." Valka smiled.

Hiccup sighed. That was as good as anything. "Alright. I really need to get going, I guess."

"Do you have everything you need?" Valka asked, looking him over like she might see something missing.

"Yeah." Hiccup nodded.

"Your map?"

"Yeah.

"Compass?"

"Yeah, Mom, both of those are kind of built into my arm." He waved his right arm.

"Right, but what about emergency firewood? In case you can't find a wooded island to camp?"

"Yeah."

"A gift for the hosting tribe?"

"Yeah. I packed the shield this morning."

"What about a blanket? It gets cold at night."

"Yeah."

"Food and water?"

"Yeah."

"Supplies in case your legs breaks? Or Toothless's tail?"

"Yeah, Mom, I'm all packed." Hiccup finally said a bit exasperated.

Valka opened her mouth to add another item to the list but she closed it with a smile. She sighed and put a hand on each of his shoulders. With a motherly smile she pulled him in for a goodbye hug. Separating, she eyed the sky though the open door.

"Then have a safe trip." Valka said with a wave. "And have fun."

"Right." Hiccup said with one foot out the door.

"Hiccup? You're just going to leave without saying goodbye?" Astrid's tired voice called from the top of the stairs.

Hiccup lost his balance and nearly fell when he spun back around. Astrid was standing atop the stairs with one hand on the wall and the other resting on her swollen abdomen. Her hair was a tangled mess.

"You were sleeping, and you looked so peaceful, I didn't want to wake you." Hiccup said quickly.

Astrid started down the stairs one foot at a time. Hiccup stepped back in the house with his eyes set on her feet when his mother put a hand on his shoulder. She gently shook her head.

Right, right, Hiccup thought. His mother had been advising him for months now not to hover. Nervously, Hiccup waited until Astrid had made it down the stairs to walk toward her. She met him at the bottom and walked into his waiting embrace. He hugged her close, but not too tight, and kissed her head.

"I'll be back in a week." Hiccup said as he let go, reluctantly.

"Be safe." Astrid reminded him.

"I'll be fine, don't worry." Hiccup smiled. "You be safe while I'm gone. All three of you."

Hiccup stepped outside into the sun-warmed breeze. The door shut behind him and as Toothless hoped over, Hiccup heard a burst of laugher from the other side. He almost went back in but thought better of it.


End file.
